


The Boy Next Door

by zeilfanaat



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Drama, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s) Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeilfanaat/pseuds/zeilfanaat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s neighbours have a son, who takes a liking to Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple of years ago (in 2006). Special thanks to white rose01 who has beta-d this story. Furthermore, while writing this, I had only seen up to the first episode of season 3, and the odd episodes of season 4 and 5. I’m sorry if timing doesn’t work out.

Colonel Jonathan “Jack” O’Neill was working in his garden. He had a couple of days leave after almost five months of working non-stop. Not that he had let his team get away with that; oh no, he made sure they took a few days off at least every six weeks. But being the second in command of a top secret base such as the SGC did bring more work than ‘just’ being the CO of the premier team. However, now he had taken a couple of days rest. He needed it. Of course, as a lowly Colonel, one didn’t tend to ignore suggestions from a General. Then again, he wasn’t just any Colonel. He was Jack O’Neill, which in the Air Force was practically synonym to ‘man who borders on insubordination’. 

This time Jack had actually listened. And he enjoyed it. Finally he had some time to tend to his garden. He was just about to put a new plant in the ground when a football came flying over the fence. The ball bounced a couple of times on the grass before disappearing in the bushes on the other end of his garden. Only slightly annoyed at the interference he looked up at the fence, expecting a young face about… now. 

A mop of light brown hair appeared, soon followed by a pair of blue eyes that peered over the edge. As soon as the eyes caught sight of Jack, they widened. Jack regarded the boy for a moment. The new neighbours had been here for about three weeks. The day they had moved here, Mr. and Mrs. Winters had come over and introduced themselves. Martin Winters had explained that they had a son, Ben, who... wasn’t the smartest kid in the world. “If he causes you any trouble, please come and tell us, and we’ll have a talk with him.” 

Jack had suggested that he’d meet the boy then, but Ben had been at his aunt’s place, so he wouldn’t get under everybody’s feet. The following weeks were hectic, causing Jack to mostly remain on base, or come home late and leave early. Ben and Jack just hadn’t walked into each other yet. 

Jack looked up to find a pair of terrified eyes.

“Hey there,” he said gently, “My name is Jack.” The boy stared at him hesitantly. “Was that your ball that’s playing ‘hide and seek’?”

The boy quickly glanced around the garden, and when he didn’t see the ball, he nodded. “Yes.” Ben answered.

“Well, why don’t you come over here and we’ll look for your ball together.” Jack encouraged. The boy’s eyes lit up and he nodded vehemently. Jack pointed to the door in the fence at the back of his garden, and Ben’s face disappeared. Jack stood up, walked over to the fence and looked into the neighbours’ garden, where he saw Ben’s mother hurrying out of the kitchen, tea towel in her hand, and a worried expression on her face. Jack threw her a reassuring look and after a moment’s hesitation, Ellen Winters nodded slowly. Jack quickly went to open the fence door and there stood the eight-year-old Ben.

“Hi there. Come on in. What’s your name?” 

“I’m Ben.” The boy answered, looking straight at Jack.

“OK Ben, how ‘bout we look for your ball now? He should be hiding somewhere around here.” 

The boy looked around, but didn’t see the ball from this vantage point either. Questioningly he looked up at Jack.

“He’s not here.” 

“No, he’s not hiding in the grass. Maybe he’s hiding somewhere else. Now where could he be hiding?” Jack asked, looking around as if he was thinking. The boy thought for a while. Then his face lit up again, and Jack felt a wave of sadness hitting him. ‘That’s how Charlie looked when he figured something out.’ 

“Maybe it’s in the bushes!” Ben said excitedly. 

“Now that’s a good idea! Let’s go and look!” Jack exclaimed, pushing the memories away for the moment. They walked over to the bushes. Well, Jack walked, Ben ran. The both searched, Jack keeping away from the bushes he knew hid the ball. Five minutes later, Ben cried out happily: “I found it!” He scrambled to his feet and ran up to Jack, empty-handed. “Mr. Jack, Mr. Jack! I found it! I found the ball!” Ben jumped up and down out of excitement.

Jack smiled. “That’s great! Where did you find it?”

For a moment the boy stared at him; then he bounced back to the ‘guilty’ bush. “Here it is! Look!”

Jack crouched, his right knee protesting slightly, which he habitually ignored.

“Yes! Ben, you’re absolutely right. You found the ball. Go on, get it out.” The boy smiled widely and scrambled through the branches and leafs, before returning with the ball. The boy beamed with pride. He jumped up and ran circles around Jack, who rose to his feet as well. 

“Go on, show your mother.” He urged. The boy ran away, ball held firmly between his hands. Slowly Jack walked back to the fence and observed the child and his mother.

“Mum! Look! I found the ball! I found it by myself! Look!”

“Oh honey, that’s great! Did you thank Mr. O’Neill?”

The boy looked at her strangely. “The neighbour.” Ellen explained. Ben scrunched up his face in thought. “That’s Mr. Jack!”

“Well, did you say thank you to Mr. Jack?”

“Eh…” Ben thought for a while. “No.” And he dashed up towards the fence where Jack still stood; a contented look on his face, with a hint of sadness for those who knew him. Ellen walked towards him as well.

“Thank you, Mr. Jack!” Ben exclaimed.

“You’re welcome, Ben.” And as Ben resumed running through the garden, chasing his new-found ball, Ellen Winters looked at him with gratitude. 

“Thank you, Mr. O’Neill.”

“Please call me Jack. And it’s fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“For some reason neither of our former neighbours found it normal. You’re the first who doesn’t get mad at him or shoos him away as if he’s a plague.” Jack could see the pain in her eyes as she thought back. 

“Well,” Jack shrugged uncomfortably, “let’s just say that I’ve kicked my fair share of balls into neighbouring gardens, that I appreciate the feeling of not being yelled at for a change.’

Ellen smiled, and both watched Ben play as they chatted for a while. Finally Jack said he needed to get back to his garden. “And don’t worry about Ben coming here. As long as I’m home, he’s welcome.”

Another grateful look was sent his way, and they said goodbye.

* * *

Over the years, Ben became a regular visitor. The boy loved to help him with things like gardening or repairing things that always seemed to be around, waiting for Jack to have time to actually put them out of their misery.

Ben was happy to help him, learning things from Jack, asking questions about everything, chatting even if Jack wasn’t in a talkative mood.

Once, during winter, Christmas coming closer, Jack had felt particularly depressed, seeing as the anniversary of Charlie’s death came closer, and his team was otherwise occupied. Teal’c had gone to Chulak, Sam spent some time with her brother, and Daniel had gone to Egypt to help out one of his archaeology-friends with a dig.

Jack had decided to finally paint those wooden garden chairs, and he had opened the garage doors to let the fumes out. Ben had seen the open doors, and had come in, asking if he could help. O’Neill had grumbled a ‘yes’, and Ben had set to work, seemingly unaffected by Jack’s mood. When they were ready, they went inside to warm up. Jack had brought in some hot cocoa, which was sitting on the table, and Ben was warming his hands around the cup. 

After putting more wood on the fire, Jack stood up and came face to face with a picture of Charlie and him. He stared at it, remembering those times, when Ben walked up next to him and also looked at the picture.

“Mr. Jack?” The now eleven-year-old asked, “Who is that boy?”

Jack continued to look at the picture, his face a mask. “That’s Charlie…my son.” 

Ben was quiet for a while, processing the new information. Then he looked at his neighbour’s face. “Why are you sad, Mr. Jack?”

Jack’s face remained fixed on the wall before him. “Because Charlie is gone. And he won’t come back.”

Ben nodded and again it was quiet. After five minutes Ben looked up.

“Don’t be sad. Charlie must be at a really, really nice place if he doesn’t want to come back here, ‘cause you’re the nicest person I know, ‘part from Mummy and Daddy and Aunt Lisa.” 

That did it for Colonel Jack O’Neill. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking down at the boy next to him, and put a hand on the boy’s head.

“Yes, he’s at a really nice place now.” Ben was satisfied and grinned tentatively at his neighbour.

“Then it’s good. Come, your cocoa is getting cold!”

Jack had scrounged up a game, and the rest of the afternoon, the two played Ludo®. As they put the game away, Ben had looked up at Jack. “Are you feeling better now, Mr. Jack?”

Jack could feel the tears prickling behind his eye-lids, and he pulled the boy in a tight hug. “Yes, Ben, much better.”

* * *

General Jack O’Neill wearily put his bag down in the hall, and was about to let himself fall on the couch, when the door bell rang. He grumbled as he walked to the door, promising whoever was there, he would shoot the person if he was there to drag him back to yet another ‘very important meeting’. After spending a week in Washington, Jack had had enough of diplomacy for quite some time. 

However, when he opened the door, he found a sixteen-year-old boy, looking very befuddled. 

“Ben?” Jack looked towards the neighbours’ house and found it was completely dark. “What’s up?”

The boy looked up with a confused and lost look.

“Mum and Dad are gone. The police officer told me there was a drunk driver and that Mum and Dad are gone. Where did they go, Mr. Jack? The police officer didn’t tell me. They haven’t been home for two days.”

Jack had heard enough. He motioned Ben inside and closed the door. He could see Ben was cold, so he led Ben to the couch, and started a fire, before sitting down next to him. Ben looked at him desperately, questions and confusion evident in his eyes, as he trusted Jack to tell him. After all, Mr. Jack knew everything. He would know what to do.

Jack sighed and looked at Ben. “Ben. Do you remember about my son, Charlie?” Ben nodded. Mr. Jack had told him about Charlie sometimes. 

“Do you remember what you said that one day, when I was sad?”

Again, Ben nodded. “Do you remember what you said?”

“I said that Charlie must be in a really, really nice place ‘cause he didn’t come back.”

“That’s right. Now, your parents… they’ve gone to the same place as Charlie. They’ve also gone to that same nice place.”

Jack could see the wheels turning as Ben was trying to make sense of it all.

“Why? Don’t they like me anymore?” Ben asked.

“Oh Ben, yes, they still love you very much. But you see, people can’t choose when they go there. It just happens when it’s time. So, it was time for your Mum and Dad.”

“So, they still love me?”

“Yes.”

“But they can’t come back?”

“No. But one day, you’ll go to that place too, and then you’ll see them again.”

“Just like you’ll see Charlie again?” Ben asked, eyes wide.

Jack swallowed. “Yes, just like that.”

“Oh. OK. When’s that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll just have to continue living, learning and loving, and then we’ll see.” 

Tears made their way down Ben’s face, but he couldn’t put his emotions into words. Jack just hugged him tightly and held him until the boy was asleep. 

Jack stood up and dialled the number of Ben’s aunt. The moment it became apparent that Ben would be spending a lot of time with Jack, the Winters had given him the number, just in case of an emergency.

“Hello, this is Jack O’Neill, I’m looking for a Lisa Young?”

“Speaking.” Jack could hear the strain in her voice.

“I’m the neighbour of Martin and Ellen Winters. Ben showed up about half an hour ago, and at the moment he’s asleep on the couch.”

“Thank goodness!” Lisa Young sighed in relief. “Is he OK?”

“He’s fine. He, ehm, he told me what happened. My condolences.”

“Thank you. I got the phone call two days ago, and when I asked about Ben they said he had disappeared. My husband is at the police station right now. I would have come myself, but I am expecting a baby any moment now. I’m so glad Ben’s found. Thank you!”

“That’s ok.” 

Lisa and Jack agreed that Jack would take care of Ben until the funeral. After that, Ben would go and live with his aunt Lisa. Lisa assured Jack that Ben would be well looked after. After the phone call had ended, Jack returned to the couch and sat down. Stroking the young boy’s hair, Jack thought back to that one conversation five years ago. The boy had helped him through a tough spot. Now he would return the favour.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. Sure hope I didn't offend anyone, because that's the opposite of what I tried to do.  
> I do want to note though – I do not believe just everyone goes to Heaven. For that to happen, I believe we have to choose for God by accepting that we are sinners and that Jesus died on the cross for our sins and rose again. Only if we have made that choice, we can be with Him. Again though, that's everyone's personal choice.


End file.
